No Body Knows The Secrets That We Keep
by theworldwhispers
Summary: Written for a prompt on the GKM.  When Kurt Hummel gets doused with cold water, he turns into a girl.  What happens when he transforms in front of the entirety of New Directions? Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Written for a prompt on the GKM that read as follows:

Prompt is based on the Anime, Ranma 1/2

_Basically this is want I'd like to happen:(Warning: this might be quite crackylicious)_  
><em>Kurt is cursed to turn into a girl if he was wetpoured/splashed with cold water but he would turn back to a boy if wet with warm water... Kurt managed to hide it from everyone at school(Thank god Slushies are too corn syruppy to turn him... or maybe they could turn him he's just really good at hiding behind layers... you choose)_  
><em>Blaine is his lovely boyfriend who doesn't know this... yet... You can choose when it would be revealed to him and how... But sexy Klaine times when it happens...<em>

_Note: Kurt is born male he was just cursed or whatev sometime before high school...(In the anime I think Ranma fell into a lake that's why he's cursed you could do that or invent something else)_

* * *

><p>"No way. <em>No way, <em>Blaine. Not going to happen. Do you remember the last time we went to a party at Rachel Berry's house? Because I certainly do."

Blaine digs through his dresser drawer as he talks. "Come on. This won't be as bad. She said there would be no alcohol involved."

"That may almost be worse," he mumbles.

"Which one?" Blaine holds up a pair of swim trunks in each hand.

As if on autopilot, Kurt points to the pair in his right hand. "This does not mean I concede to your horrible plan, though." He sighs. "Seriously, what makes you think this is a good idea? A bunch of teenagers and grilling – fire, Blaine, teenagers and _fire_– and an outdoor pool. In Ohio. It's bound to be cold."

"It'll be fun! It's the last few days we have before our senior year starts. Shouldn't we enjoy them? I mean," he begins, walking over to Kurt and draping his arms across his shoulders, "this is our last year together – the entire group. Then everyone splits up for college. Our time together as a group is limited."

Kurt takes a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. "I just… I really don't like swimming, and I don't know what else there will be to do, you know? Can't we just – all go see a movie next week or something?"

Blaine leans in and kisses him slowly, eventually pulling back just enough that they aren't _technically_kissing anymore despite their lips still brushing together as they talk. "You know most of the girls won't swim either. You can lounge about with them and look irresistible."

He hums in agreeance. "What fun is it looking irresistible if you won't act on it?"

"Who says I won't?" Blaine all but growls back, sliding his hands from Kurt's shoulders down to the small of his back – just low enough to tease.

With a sigh, Kurt asks, "When are we supposed to show up?"

Blaine simply grins triumphantly before crushing their lips together again.

* * *

><p>The ride over to Rachel's is a bit tense. Kurt shifts nervously in his seat, staring wistfully out the window, fingers idly playing with the corner of the towel sitting on his lap.<p>

Blaine's driving, singing along loudly to some top 40 hit on the radio. After a moment, he glances over at Kurt, wondering why he isn't singing as well. His eyebrows furrow together and he asks, "Are you okay?"

This startles Kurt back to reality, and he snaps his head around to look at Blaine, his eyes wide. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"If you really, really don't want to do this, we can still turn around. It's just – you look upset."

Kurt sighs. "I'm fine. I just don't like pools. It's okay." He gives Blaine a small smile, trying to be reassuring. "Like you said, I'll just lay out with Mercedes and the other girls. I haven't talked to them much recently anyway."

"You sure? We can still turn around."

He reaches over and grabs Blaine's hand, threading their fingers together. "I'm sure. It'll be fine, right? It'll be okay."

"Why does it sound like you're trying to reassure yourself more than me?" Blaine asks.

"Probably because I am."

"Are you – afraid of swimming? Do you not know how?"

"So many questions," Kurt mumbles.

Blaine squeezes his hand. "I'm just trying to understand. I don't want to push you into something that's going to freak you out or anything. I don't want to be _that guy_, you know?" He runs his free hand quickly through his hair before grabbing the steering wheel again. "Goodness knows we've both had enough of that in the past."

Kurt exhales slowly, smiling softly over at Blaine. "You could never be that guy, Blaine. I know you have nothing but the best of intentions."

"Will you tell me what it is, then?"

Kurt swallows. He could. He could tell him now and Blaine would apologize for pushing the party. He'd probably turn around and take them back to his house where they would curl up and watch a movie, lounging together on Blaine's couch in comfortable, safe silence.

Instead, he just says, "Chlorine's bad for your skin, that's all. It dries me out. It takes _days_to recover."

Blaine chuckles softly. "Oh. Is that all?"

Kurt nods, his stomach knotting up with guilt. "That's all."

_Someday._


	2. Chapter 2

They arrive at Rachel's fashionably late.

They walk up the few steps onto her porch and Kurt rings the doorbell, a towel slung over his arm. Rachel seems to be in no hurry to answer the door – a few minutes pass with no sign of her. Kurt presses the button again, letting out an agitated sigh, and jumps about a foot in the air when he feels Blaine's hand slide into the back pocket of his jeans (because of course he hadn't changed at Blaine's – he wanted to have dry clothes to wear home, something Blaine himself hadn't thought of).

"What are you _doing_?" he hisses. "Public place, Blaine."

Maddeningly, Blaine just chuckles. "It's just the glee club, Kurt."

"We're not _actually inside_ Rachel's house yet, in case you haven't noticed," he replies, but Blaine's hand remains firmly in his back pocket, his thumb toying with the waistband of the jeans.

Blaine just leans in close, his breath overly warm against Kurt's ear, and says, "Nobody's watching us. Calm down."

Kurt swallows, but eventually relents, leaning back slightly into Blaine's touch. His thumb slides between the smooth skin of his lower back and the waistband, his fingers curling up in the pocket until he has a handful of Kurt's ass sitting in the palm of his hand. Kurt inhales sharply, still nervous that someone is going to jump out of the bushes and start throwing stones or something, but Blaine just smiles.

"I told you you looked irresistible," he whispers.

"Actually, you said-" he begins, but is immediately cut off by a high pitched squeal as a somewhat damp Rachel launches herself into Kurt's arms.

"You're here!"

He stumbles a bit under her weight, not having expected it, and laughs nervously as Blaine withdraws his hand – albeit a bit reluctantly. "We – we thought you'd forgotten about us, Rach. You left us waiting out here for a while, you know."

She finally pulls back and beams, throwing her arms around Blaine next. "Sorry! Everyone was in the pool. I had to dry off some before I could go back into the house to let you in. My Dads aren't here, but they'd kill me if the floors were ruined."

Rachel manages to eventually let go of both of them and lead them into the house. Kurt knows his way around well enough, but Rachel gives Blaine some basic pointers – bathroom is down the hall to the left, kitchen is straight ahead and past the dining room, the spare bedroom where everyone seems to have thrown their stuff is the last door on the right before the porch – before rounding on Kurt, her finger wiggling menacingly in front of her. "And why are you not in a suit?"

"I felt it was a bit too formal for the occasion, to be honest," he says, giving her a slight eye roll.

"Kurt, I'm serious! It's a pool party. It's hot outside. You can't wear jeans all day."

Blaine jumps in, wrapping an arm around Kurt's shoulders. "He brought a suit, Rachel. He just didn't want to wear it in the car. Now… remind me again where that bathroom is?"

She points them down the hall, still side-eyeing them as they walk off. "Blaine already has his suit on, though," she calls after them.

"Very astute observation, Rachel, you sure you aren't a scientist?" Kurt drones.

"Then why-"

He holds up a hand, cutting her off. "Do you really want to ask that question? Consider carefully."

Rachel regards them for a moment before shaking her head dramatically and turning on her heel, storming off in classic Rachel Berry fashion.

"She sure knows how to make an exit," Blaine says, one eyebrow raised as they watch her exit back into the backyard, presumably to tell everyone they've arrived.

"That's Rachel for you. She finds the potential to be a diva in every moment."

"Rachel is really not what I want to be talking about right now." Blaine grabs his hand, pulling him down the rest of the hall to the bathroom door.

Kurt smirks. "Is that so? Well, Blaine Warbler," he teases, tugging on the ends of the towel draped around his neck, "I don't want to talk at all."

Kurt keeps his grip on the towel, pulling Blaine into the small bathroom before reaching behind him to close the door. Before Blaine can even register being in the room, his back is slammed up against the door – Kurt's face inches from his own.

"You _tease_," he groans, pressing his lips against the skin of Blaine's neck. It's been warmer than usual this summer for Ohio, so even just the few minutes waiting outside for Rachel has left a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. Kurt's tongue slides out and over his pulse point, and he sucks just hard enough to make Blaine's back arch – not enough to leave a mark, never quite that hard.

"Kurt, w-we can't-"

Kurt growls at him, _actually_ growls at him. "Don't you dare tell me we can't, Blaine Anderson. You're the one who started it."

Blaine swallows hard, and Kurt can feel the movement of his throat as he continues sucking on the skin, moving a bit lower down his neck. "B-but everyone is waiting for us outside."

"So let them wait."

Kurt slots one of his legs between Blaine's and leans forward. The pressure is enough to make Blaine's knees buckle a bit, which just spurs Kurt on. Moving forward until his knee hits the door, he situates Blaine on either side of his leg, holding him up.

Blaine groans, tilting his head to the side to open his neck up. "Rachel… Rachel knows," he chokes out, reaching blindly until his hands settle on Kurt's hips.

"Don't care," Kurt says before grabbing the hem of Blaine's shirt. The fabric is up and over his head in one swift movement, and Kurt immediately brings his hands to his chest, running slowly down his torso.

Breathing picking up rapidly, Blaine makes one last half-baked attempt. "We – we have to face these people all afternoon."

Kurt pulls back. "I said I _didn't want_ to talk, Blaine." And with that, he begins again, biting and licking and sucking at his collarbone – a spot he knows well is a weakness for him.

Blaine throws an arm out, his hand catching the counter, in an attempt to brace himself as Kurt moves achingly slowly down his chest. For every bite, Kurt lavishes the area with wet, open-mouthed kisses and Blaine rocks his hips up against his leg, hoping for some ounce of friction. But Kurt shakes his head, bringing a hand down to his hips to hold him still, pinning him against the door.

"Not yet," he whispers, and then immediately dips his head down, flicking his tongue out over Blaine's nipple. Blaine's knuckles turn white where he grips the counter and it takes all of his strength to stay standing, even with Kurt's help. He keeps teasing Blaine for a few seconds before sucking the tender bud into his mouth, biting lightly and sucking hard.

Blaine throws his head back, hitting the door with a solid _thunk_, and his jaw drops. "K-Kurt…" is all he manages to breathe out.

Kurt releases him with a wet smack, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. "Stay quiet," he says. His voice is forceful, deeper than normal.

And then he's dropping to his knees.

Blaine's eyes fly open wide, and he swears he's dipping into all of his self-control to bite back the moan that wants to come out as Kurt loosens the ties on the front of his swim trunks with graceful fingers.

Once they're finally untied, just barely clinging to his hips still, Kurt brings his hands back up around his ribs, dancing playfully over his far-too-sensitive skin. His fingertips barely brush him, but it's enough to send chills up his spine.

And he can't hold it in anymore. With a quiet, broken voice, Blaine says, "_Please,_" and it's enough to push Kurt over the edge. He slides his hands back down Blaine's torso, his thumbs hooking under his waistband, dragging the suit down with them until it pools at his ankles.

Blaine hisses, the air suddenly cool against his skin – which feels like it's on fire already just from the little bit of him Kurt has touched. Kurt – whose warm hands are now on his thighs, pushing them apart carefully so that he doesn't lose his balance. Kurt – who stares up at him one last time and deliberately licks his lips before sliding his hand up the short distance to the base of his cock and finally – _finally_ – wrapping his hand firmly around him.

Blaine's knees buckle again, and Kurt uses his other hand to keep his hips pressed firmly into the door, pushing so hard that there are bound to be bruises. They both know it's risky – swimsuits will pull down when waterlogged, after all – but Blaine can't bring himself to care, not when Kurt's hand is finally moving, dragging up towards the head in slow, burning motions. His thumb flicks out over the head, pressing against the slit, and Blaine stuffs his fist in his mouth.

And then Kurt pulls his hand away, and Blaine visibly shudders, a low moan ripping through him. "Kurt, _please_…"

He pulls his head away from the door to look down at Kurt, trying to figure out why on earth he would put him through this, and the sight makes his toes curl.

Kurt licks his hand – slowly, a small smirk on his face, his eyes never breaking from Blaine's.

"Oh God, Kurt. _Fuck_, just-…" He cuts himself off with a high-pitched keen, a whimper, as Kurt wraps his hand around tightly around him again. The slickness of his hand makes it even better – less of a painful drag and more of a smooth glide – and he can barely remember how to _breathe_ with how good it feels.

Kurt pumps him twice at a frustratingly leisurely pace, his eyes still locked on Blaine's. "Just what, Blaine?"

"I – I need…"

"What do you need, Blaine?" Kurt asks, his thumb pressing tightly against the vein running up the underside of his cock. "Tell me."

Blaine is panting, struggling just to draw in air, much less talk. His hand on the counter is clenching and unclenching, wishing desperately it had something to cling to to give him some semblance of an anchor.

"Your mouth. Please, God, Kurt… just, I – I need..."

Kurt shushes him then, the hand on his hip brushing the skin lightly. He pumps him a few more times, faster, a bit rougher, until his hand is dry again. "Okay. Just remember – you have to stay quiet."

He slides his hand down to the base, wrapping around him once more. He presses a kiss to the head before flicking his tongue out, swirling slowly. Blaine bites his lip, barely holding back a groan, and buries his hand in Kurt's hair, tugging sharply

Which – _oh_, is apparently a thing for Kurt, because he sinks down over him in one solid move, his moans vibrating around Blaine. That's definitely something they'll be talking about later, but right now, Blaine just pulls Kurt towards him, sliding more of his cock down into his throat. Kurt relaxes his jaw, swallowing carefully and trying to avoid his gag reflex.

He twists his hand around the base of Blaine that he can't manage and hollows his cheeks. Then he's sucking – and _hard_. His tongue slides against the same vein he massaged earlier, and with a deep breath through his nose, Kurt slides even closer to Blaine, until his nose is against his waist and Blaine's cock hits the back of his throat.

He keeps him there for a few seconds, and Blaine has to tug him back by his hair to get him to pull away. He looks up at him, his eyes looking impossibly bright and devilish under his lashes, and Blaine just holds his free hand up. His chest is heaving, as if every single breath is a chore, when he finally replies. "I was about to-…"

Kurt pulls off with a pop, and Blaine has to suppress yet another groan at the sight of him. His lips are bruised, a bright, swollen cherry red, and there's a thin line of saliva connecting his mouth to his cock. "I thought that was the point," he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smirk.

Before Blaine can find the strength to reply, Kurt's mouth is back on him, enveloping him in an overwhelming amount of _warm_ and _wet_. His head bobs up and down him quickly, and Blaine just clenches his hand in Kurt's hair.

It doesn't take long before he's right there at the edge again, heat coiling and pooling heavy in his stomach. "K-Kurt, I'm gonna-…" he begins, his voice breathless and airy.

Kurt replies by sucking harder, by pumping him faster, by swallowing as much as he can manage – and that's all it takes. Blaine's entire body goes rigid, his back arching away from the door and straining to be close as possible to Kurt as he comes down his throat, hips stuttering forward until he can come no more.


	3. Chapter 3

Note to answer the question the anon left in the review: No, Blaine does not yet know about Kurt's curse. That comes later. :)

* * *

><p>He doesn't see stars or pass out or any of that – but he does lose all strength in his muscles finally, sinking down to the floor into a puddle of clothing and limbs and heat. His eyes flutter closed, and he blindly slides the hand tangled in Kurt's hair down his face, caressing his cheek. He vaguely registers that the tile is cold against his bare skin, but he doesn't think he could stand again to dress if he tried. Both Kurt's hands are on his cheeks, peppering his face in light, small kisses as Blaine comes down.<p>

"So beautiful," Kurt whispers, followed by a kiss to his temple. "You're gorgeous." Between his eyes. "Breathe, baby." His cheekbone. "Perfect. Perfect, and all mine." The corner of his mouth, before dragging his lips across Blaine's, pulling his lower lip between his own and kissing him sweetly.

That is, until Blaine musters up the strength to reply. He's young – his recovery time is fast – and within a minute or so, his eyes are flying open and he's grabbing a handful of Kurt's shirt, pulling him in for a breathtaking kiss. It's sloppy; he's not completely back yet. It's all teeth and tongues and their noses definitely bump more than once, but neither cares. In that moment, all they care about is being as close to each other as possible, so close they're practically _breathing_ for each other.

Eventually, Kurt pulls back with a swallow, breathing heavily. "We're running out of time in here. They'll come looking for us soon."

Blaine just slides his hand down Kurt's torso, smoothing down his shirt before reaching for the button to his jeans, his fingers fumbling with the clasp in his overly-relaxed state. "We have time."

Kurt takes in a shaky breath and just nods, quickly. He's not going to complain, not when he's so hard it hurts, the sharp stiffness of the zipper digging uncomfortably into his skin. After a few silent seconds, he pushes Blaine's hand away, bringing his zipper down in one smooth motion. Then he rocks up onto his knees, shimmying the tight fabric down over his hips before sitting down again to remove them completely. Blaine grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it off, careful to drape it over the edge of the counter, since Kurt intends to wear it again later, and then-

And then he just stares.

They both know they're on borrowed time. They know that Finn or Rachel or Puck or – God forbid – _Santana_ could walk back inside at any second. They've already been in the cramped room for at least a solid ten minutes, and considering that Blaine came already dressed, there's no way the rest of New Directions are going to give them much more time alone together.

But he can't help it.

He raises a hand and places it on Kurt's shoulder. After a slight squeeze, his begins moving down – slowly, almost torturously slow, his fingers barely ghosting against Kurt's smooth skin.

He doesn't linger. As much as he loves Kurt's body and loves the very feel of him – wants to memorize every dip and contour – he knows this isn't the time.

"Later," he says. His voice is barely audible, even in the otherwise silent room, but Kurt knows that it's a promise. So he nods, then pushes himself up onto his knees one more time.

Blaine takes the hint and moves his hands down to Kurt's hips, grabbing the waistband of his briefs and sliding them down. They stretch a bit awkwardly over his lower thighs, just above his knees, but they can't be bothered to pull them off all the way. Precious seconds.

With a firm grip, Blaine wraps his hand around the base of Kurt's cock. There's no time for smooth or slow or teasing or sweet. There's no time for anything but sure, sharp tugs and twists. He pumps Kurt quickly, the friction of his bare hand against his skin almost overwhelming, but Kurt passed overwhelmed when Blaine came down his throat with a muffled cry.

"Faster," Kurt says, jerking his hips up into Blaine's grip.

Blaine is more than happy to oblige.

"Nggh – Blaine, close."

Blaine's movements never slow down. "Already?" he asks, circling the head with his thumb. His voice would be playful, but it comes out in such a ragged pant that he sounds as desperate as Kurt feels. Time is ticking and they both _want_ so bad.

Kurt nods and throws his head back sharply, his eyes clenched shut tight. "Harder – faster, please, Blaine, please-…"

And that was the last thing he needed. Kurt so rarely begs him for anything; he prides himself on being the more composed of the two of them, even during sex. So when he comes undone, lets himself loosen up more, react more vocally, it kills Blaine.

He tightens his fist around Kurt's cock, jerking him in rough, uneven motions. The time for tenderness is past, and they both know it. Blaine moves in even closer to Kurt, leaving just enough space between them for his frantic tugging, and before Kurt can even protest it, Blaine removes his other hand from Kurt's hip, wrapping it around his waist.

It dips down, and Kurt thinks Blaine is going to grab his ass again like he did on Rachel's porch, but he just keeps going, his hand gliding lower and lower until – with a barely there touch – Blaine slides his thumb into the cleft and presses against the tight ring of muscle.

Kurt falls forward, biting down harshly on Blaine's shoulder to quiet the shout that erupts from him as he comes over his hand. Blaine milks him through it, pumping him with much slower, smoother strokes until Kurt's body stops convulsing.

He lets go of Blaine's shoulder, struggling desperately to pull in oxygen, and slumps off his knees, a boneless pile leaning against the dark wood cabinets.

Kurt knows he should get dressed – knows that both his and Blaine's clothes are probably horribly wrinkled and that they really, really need to be getting outside – but he figures he can give himself at least one minute to relearn the technique of breathing.

Blaine is the first to move. He grabs a wad of tissue and wipes his hand off, throwing it into the nearby toilet. Then he slides his swimsuit back up, tying it back in place, and crawls the foot or so across the floor to Kurt. Carefully, he untucks the boy's legs out from underneath him, stretching them out. With nothing but reverence and love now, he slides the briefs down the rest of the length of his legs, helping him to slide out of them.

He digs into the bag that Kurt brought, pulling out the swimsuit and tucking one foot at a time into the leg holes, pulling the fabric up his body until he can't anymore.

"You need to sit up for me, love. Or raise your hips," he says, leaning forward to press his lips to Kurt's forehead. If he lingers there a bit longer than necessary, neither of them mention it.

With a sigh, Kurt rocks his hips forward again, raising them off the floor just enough that Blaine can pull his suit up, tucking him inside with gentle hands so as not to irritate the overly sensitive skin too much. Once he's settled back against the floor, Kurt leans forward, nuzzling his face into Blaine's neck.

"Love you. I hope you know that."

Blaine chuckles. "You get so affectionate after sex."

Kurt raises a hand, draping it across Blaine's neck, twirling a loose curl around his finger. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

He simply replies, "Never," and kisses his temple, and Kurt knows it's true.


	4. Chapter 4

They give themselves thirty seconds. Thirty seconds to cuddle, to just simply sit and breathe together, come down together, before Kurt slowly begins pushing himself up into a standing position. Blaine pouts almost immediately.

"Come back. You're warm," he says.

Kurt walks to the counter and picks up the shirt Blaine had so carefully draped, folding it into a neat pile. Leaning down, he grabs his bag and hauls it up, pulling out a plain heather gray v-neck and sliding it over his head. He places the other shirt in the bag in its place and turns on the spot, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed against his chest.

"We have to go outside. You're the one who wanted to come to this party in the first place, you know."

Blaine keeps sulking from his place on the floor. "What if I apologized for my horrible lapse in judgment and said I had changed my mind and that we should just go home?"

With a chuckle, Kurt replies, "But everyone already knows we're here. And I didn't spend 40 minutes at home making sure every inch of me was covered in sunscreen for nothing, Blaine."

"Speaking of all that sunscreen, why the shirt?" he asks as he pushes himself into a standing position.

"Because unlike some people," he begins, turning around to face the mirror again, "I believe in skin protection. In case you haven't noticed, I happen to be a particularly pale species of the human race. I burn easily."

Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt's waist, hooking his chin over his shoulder and holding him close. "I have noticed. I happen to like your skin tone, you know. You should show it off more."

Kurt leans back into his embrace as he digs through his bag, pulling out a smaller bag full of hair products. "You're just saying that because you want to ogle me while we're outside."

"Well, that isn't _untrue_, but I do also just happen to find you incredibly beautiful, you know. There's not always a hidden agenda."

Finally finding what he was looking for in the smaller bag – a comb – Kurt extracts himself from Blaine's embrace, kissing him on his cheek as he threatens yet another pout. "You're sweet. But I need my arms."

"Fine, fine," Blaine replies, his smile evident in his voice. He walks back over to his clothes and folds them, watching as Kurt wets the comb down and runs it through his hair, attempting to tame the mess Blaine and all his tugging made.

With a smirk, Blaine leans against the door, his folded clothes under his arm. "You look utterly _debauched_, Kurt Hummel. Red, swollen lips, messy hair, sex flush…"

Kurt turns quickly and gives him his best bitch glare. "I am well aware of that fact, Blaine." But after a second, his face softens, laughter bubbling up from his chest. "You look pretty thoroughly fucked yourself. We're a mess."

"They already know what we were up to. Why try so hard to fix it?"

He just rolls his eyes. "Do you want Santana and Puck jumping on us as soon as we walk outside?"

Blaine just raises an eyebrow in response. "They're going to anyway, you know. No matter if you cover it up or not."

Kurt studies his reflection and sighs. "That's as good as it's going to get without some product. And I suppose you're right."

"Product? Are you really not planning on getting wet at all?"

"Not really, no."

Blaine's eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn't say anything. Kurt slides the last of their things into his bag, grabbing Blaine's clothes from him to put them in it as well, and finally, they exit the small bathroom.

Kurt laces his fingers with Blaine's and they quickly drop their things off in the guest room. With a deep breath, Kurt pulls the door to the back porch open and they step outside into the blinding sunlight.

The reactions are immediate.

"About damn time you two graced us with your presence," Puck calls, shooting a rubber ball through a basketball hoop hanging over the side of the pool. "Have fun?"

Finn splashes him. "Dude, that's my brother."

"Yeah, and your brother just had sex in your girlfriend's bathroom. Look at him."

"I'm good, thanks." Needless to say, Finn avoids eye contact with him for a while after that.

Kurt just rolls his eyes, ignoring all the comments, and pulls a lounge chair up by Mercedes and Tina, who appear to be the only two other people not interested in getting wet. He lies down, stretching out with a slight groan as his back pops, and pulls a pair of sunglasses down over his eyes.

"Seems like you've had a fun afternoon," Tina says, her lips pursed together to hold in the laugh threatening to spill out.

"Can we not talk about it?"

Mercedes jumps in, scooting her chair in closer to Kurt's. "Not a chance. Now spill."

Blaine leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Kurt's head. "Gonna go join the guys for pool basketball. You good here?"

Kurt looks up at him and smiles, nodding. "Yep. Have fun. Beat them all for me."

He grins, throwing him a wink. "You bet. Love you."

"You too," he calls after him. Mercedes and Tina 'aww' appreciatively.

"You guys are so cute. I wish Sam acted like that with me."

Kurt jumps at the change in topic. Anything to get them off his sex life. He pushes his sunglasses slightly down his nose, looking at Mercedes over them. "Does he not?"

"I don't think any of us are as lovey as you two," Tina quips. "You can't even keep your eyes off him."

Kurt tears his eyes away from the pool, having just watched Blaine dive in and resurface, shaking his hair out with a laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mhmm, of course you don't," Mercedes says, laughing. "But really, you two are more legit than any of us, I think."

"Oh, I don't know. Mike and Tina here have us beat for longest lasting couple."

Tina smiles softly. "That's only because we met before you two, I bet."

A cheer erupts from the pool, and all three of them turn to see what the fuss is all about. Mike and Blaine exchange a high five as Puck sends a wave of water crashing into Finn's face.

"Dude, how did you not block that? He's like a foot shorter than you!"

Finn replies indignantly, "It's hard to move fast in water, okay? I couldn't get there in time! What about you? I thought you were supposed to be on Mike."

"We agreed that I'd block Sam."

Artie floats by on a mat, nodding. "It's true. You told him to watch Trouty Mouth over there."

Puck and Finn keep shouting at each other for a while, getting close to each other's faces. They playfully shove each other, splashing water in each other's faces and pushing down on their shoulders, trying to dunk each other.

Santana stops filing her nails, glaring at them over her sunglasses. "Could you keep it down, Dumb and Dumber? I'm trying to gets my tan on."

Puck ignores her and rounds on Finn again. "Fine, no more basketball. I challenge you to a game of chicken. Winner takes all."


	5. Chapter 5

"Puck knows how to turn into a chicken?" Brittany asks, turning to look at Santana from under the brim of her floppy sun hat, her eyes wide and hopeful. "Like Kurt being a dolphin?"

Santana's face softens and she shakes her head. "No, Britts. It's just the name of a game. People sit on another person's shoulders and try to knock other teams into the water."

"Oh," she says. "We should play, then!"

"You really want to?" she asks, a perfectly manicured eyebrow rising on her face.

Brittany nods enthusiastically, a few strands of her hair falling free from her loose bun.

Santana just stares for a moment before turning her head to glance at the pool. Other people are already partnering up. Finn has somehow convinced Rachel to come join in the fun, and she now sits somewhat unsteadily on his shoulders. Puck's somehow sweet-talked Quinn up onto him, though she appears to have a death grip on him as he swaggers around the shallow end. Blaine and Mike decide to work the grill while everyone plays, leaving Sam without a partner.

"Santana," he calls, "Come be on my team?"

She stands, holding her hand out to Brittany, who jumps up with a beamingly bright smile and immediately links their pinkies. "Sorry, Trouty Mouth. We play for different teams. Britts and I are going to beat you all."

Brittany drags Santana to the pool steps and they both walk in, Santana then carefully helping the other girl up onto her shoulders.

With a laugh, Tina stands from her lounge area. "Come on, Sam. I'll be your partner, since Mike's helping cook."

Sam grins, high fiving her as soon as she walks into the pool. "Thanks, Tina! We got this."

"You better not let me fall. This water is cold."

"You get used to it, though," he says with a grin, helping her up onto his shoulders.

Before the game begins, Puck turns to yell. "Hummel! Come get your ass in the water!"

"No thanks, Noah – I like my body temperature at a normal level," he answers, a sharp roll of his eyes making Mercedes laugh.

Puck turns back around, facing his competition – earning a squeal from Quinn. "Suit yourself. But one way or another today, you're getting wet."

Kurt shrugs, laughs it off, but inside, his heart skyrockets into his throat. _He's kidding. He would never._

Mercedes turns to him, waving a hand in front of his face in an attempt to get his attention. "You okay? Just ignore Puck. He's just sour because he knows he's going to lose." She pulls her sunglasses back down into place. "Personally, I'm betting on Sam and Tina. They look the most stable out of all of them out there."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, the game is on. Brittany immediately hooks her hands with Rachel, leaving Tina and Quinn to fight. The partners on the bottom all have death grips on their ankles, trying to hold them in place.

It doesn't take long for the first team to fall.

Santana starts screaming in Spanish at Finn, trying to distract him, and Brittany manages to wrench her hands just so, sending Rachel toppling face first over Finn's shoulder into the cold water. Her fall throws him off balance, and his feet slide out from under him on the slick pool bottom, one foot at a time. His right knee buckles first, sending him flailing in that direction, throwing his arms out to try to grab onto something before he falls.

Which just sends him crashing into Puck.

Sam manages to step back quick enough that Tina isn't hit as Quinn falls forward over Puck's shoulders, dragging him down with her. The two stay under for about thirty seconds before resurfacing with a cough and a sputter. Quinn shoves her hair out of her face and looks up at Tina and Brittany, both vying to be the winner.

They twist and jerk each other's hands harshly as Sam and Santana stare each other down, trying to focus intently on keeping their partners from slipping. But between the big waves that the other two teams created when they went down and the fallen people swimming to the edge to get out, it's hard to stay steady. Sam gets hit in the face with a particularly large splash, and he lets go of Tina's right ankle for a split second to wipe his face.

It's just long enough. Brittany laughs loudly and jerks her off to the side, sending her sliding down Sam's arms and into the cool water. She jumps down off Santana's shoulders, hugging her triumphantly.

"We won!" she cries as Tina resurfaces.

Tina just smiles and holds her hand out to Brittany. "Good game," she says with a chuckle. "You're stronger than I realized."

Brittany clasps her hand for a second before pulling the other girl in for a hug. Finn claps Santana on the shoulder, and Quinn swims over to congratulate them as well.

Puck, however, swims to the edge of the pool, pulling himself up over the edge and out. The first thing he does when he gets on the desk is grab the hose that's laying out, holding it out in front of him like a lethal weapon, his finger hovering dangerously above the trigger.

"Who ran into me?" he asks, turning the hose on Finn, who immediately throws his hands up in a surrender. No way he's going to admit to it.

He tilts the hose slightly to the right, aiming it at Rachel.

"Really, Noah?" she asks, hands resting on her hips. "If you think I could have pushed you over and under then maybe you were in the sun too long earlier."

The next target is Santana, who simply raises an eyebrow as if daring him to try to come after her. He shakes his head for a second before turning around to move on to Mike.

"I wouldn't do that," Blaine pipes up, slowly flipping a burger over on the grill. Mike stands next to him, also holding a spatula. "If you want to eat, that is. Relighting the grill will take ages if you put it out."

Puck sighs loudly, his eyes narrowing, but turns back towards the people in the pool. "Someone's going to pay." He scans the crowd, but nobody appears to be in any hurry to speak up. "Well, if no one's going to admit it, then I guess that means it's _free for all!"_

He squeezes down on the trigger, the water coming out in a harsh, fast stream that slams into Sam's chest. But he doesn't stop there – one by one, he attacks his friends. Mike ends up dropping the spatula and making a running dive for the deep end to avoid getting hit. Mercedes – who is still innocently lounging in a chair, talking to Kurt – gets drenched.

She cries out in protest, and it's enough to distract Kurt for the slightest of seconds. He tears his gaze away from Puck to make sure Mercedes is okay, and that's when he feels it.

His shirt instantly clings to his body for dear life, and he screams before he realizes it. Puck just laughs, yelling, "Finally got you, Hummel!" before running off to corner Brittany.

Kurt can barely hear her squeals over his own heartbeat. The second he registers the water, he lunges for a towel, wrapping it tightly around himself. So… why is he still a boy?

_I'm not cold. The water's warm_, he realizes. _The hose had been in the sun_. _You're safe._

Mercedes snaps her head towards him at his scream. "Kurt! Jesus. Are you alright?"

He stares blankly at her, breathing heavily, his knuckles white from the grip on the towel. She waves a hand in front of his face, trying to pull focus again. "Kurt? Say something, baby. It's just water."

But he just pushes himself up onto unsteady legs and shakes his head quickly. "I – I'm fine. I just – it surprised me, that's all. I didn't want to get wet. I'm going to," he cuts himself off, swallowing thickly. "I'm going to go inside, okay? Dry off. Warm up. Something. Maybe I'll change back into my jeans. Do you think that would get Puckerman to leave me alone? He wouldn't soak someone in normal clothes, would he?"

Mercedes just tilts her head to the side, looking up at him with concerned eyes. "Seriously, Kurt, are you okay? You seem really jumpy or something," she says, ringing out her hair.

"I'm fine. I just – need to go. Tell Blaine for me? Don't worry him, just… if he asks where I am, tell him I went back inside."

He backs away from the chair slowly, stumbling over an empty watering can. It clatters away from him, rolling toward the fence around the deck, and Kurt looks up suddenly, his eyes wide.

Puck turns around towards him with a menacing look. "Trying to sneak away, Hummel?"

Kurt holds his hands up in mock surrender, as Finn had done earlier. "You already hit me, Puck. I wasn't even in the pool to push you under earlier." He takes a few more steps backwards. About 7 more steps, and he'll reach the door to get back inside.

Puck takes a step forward, and squeezes the trigger once – not hard enough for the stream to get all the way to Kurt, but enough to make a few drops bounce off the deck and hit his leg.

And they're _cold_.

"Just let me go inside and – and finish getting… lunch ready. Yeah, lunch. Teenage boys can always eat, right?"

But Puck's eyes are gleaming. He practically has Kurt cornered, and the rest of New Directions is just cheering him on.

Kurt chances a quick glance over to the pool and scowls. "Finn, shouldn't you be on my side? You're my brother."

Finn shrugs. He laughs, grabbing Sam and tossing him out further into the deep end. "He's gotten all of us, bro. It's totally your turn."

Quinn briefly halts her splashing war with Brittany. "It's just water, Kurt – come on! It's a pool party! Let your hair down a bit."

Kurt grumbles, "Like you're one to talk about letting your hair down, Quinn," but she doesn't hear. Everyone is caught up in their own games, their own small wars, their own laughter.

No one pays much attention to Puck as he begins running towards Kurt.

Kurt takes off in the other direction, trying to put as much distance between himself and Puck as possible. He dodges toys and chairs and plants, running as quickly as he can, but the deck is slick and he still has a towel wrapped around himself. Puck begins to gain on him quickly.

"As soon as I get close enough to you, you're dead!" he calls, and Kurt just runs faster, slippery deck be damned.

They make almost a full lap around the pool, and the door into the house is within sight. Just a bit further and he'll be able to get away and avoid _everything_.

But he doesn't take into account the fact that the rest of the glee club is all on Puck's side. They want him to get drenched. Santana grabs the edge of the dangling towel as he runs past and tugs. _Hard_.

And Kurt – he goes tumbling into the pool.


	6. Chapter 6

Santana doesn't pull him into the deep end, either. She tugs him down, deep and quick, into the shallow end, frighteningly close to the edge and the stairs. He falls into the water with a _smack_, a mess of flailing limbs and flying cloth. The towel – still wrapped around him – is immediately saturated, weighing him down but keeping him _covered_. Between the waves from his crash, the bubbles formed from his disturbing the water, and that wretched towel, he's completely obscured from view.

Blaine shoves the spatula he's holding into Mike's hand and runs down the steps into the water. He shoves past Rachel and Santana, his eyes wide and frantic.

"Why did you do that?" he shouts.

Santana folds her arms across her chest. "It was all fun and games. I didn't see you trying to stop Puckerman from chasing him around."

He half walks, half hops his way across the pool, past all the people, still trying just to make his way to Kurt, who for some terrifying reason, has yet to resurface. "It's one thing to drench someone and another thing entirely to pull someone into shallow water."

Finally, Kurt surfaces with a gasp, the towel draped tightly over and across his body like a shawl. Blaine pushes his way towards him and lays his hands on his shoulders, spinning him around until both boys are facing each other. But Kurt won't meet his eyes. He keeps his head hung low, his shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath.

"Kurt, are you okay? You were under a long time, baby." His voice is laden with concern, his eyebrows drawn together in a tight frown.

Kurt just tries to wriggle out of his grasp, moving quickly toward the stairs. Blaine follows him, grabbing right wrist.

"Say something," he pleads. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Finally, he shakes his head, just enough that Blaine can see him before he wrenches his hand free again, running (as much as one can in water) to the stairs, where he stops suddenly.

In one smooth movement, he pulls the heavy towel off himself, throwing it in the direction of the gathered crowd of glee club members, before tearing out of the pool. His hands are up around his head, and he makes it out and across the deck in a mere matter of seconds.

Rachel, in her panic, just stutters out a quiet "K-Kurt, the _floors_" as he runs inside, the door slamming behind him

It echoes throughout the quiet backyard. Brittany fingers the wet towel nervously, and Quinn is the first to speak up.

"Did – did it look like his head was red when he ran out to anyone else?" She glances around at everyone else, but no one speaks. "Did he hit his head when he fell in, or something?"

The group breaks out in quiet murmurs as they all talk to themselves about what happened, what it could mean, what they should do. Blaine rounds on them all just seconds after the door slams, jabbing a finger into Santana's chest.

"Look what you've done," he hisses. "You're all supposed to be his friends. 'It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt,' right? That doesn't just mean physical pain. He's supposed to – we should _all_ – feel safe around you guys, all together. By forcing him to do something he didn't want to do – how does that make you any better than the bullies that torment him every single day? This was supposed to be one of our last days together before school starts back up to just relax and enjoy each other's company. You crossed a line when you physically dragged him down. I hope you're happy."

And with that, he leaves, leaving a stunned group in his wake.

Kurt runs as quickly as he can back into that tiny bathroom, feet slipping and sliding the whole way on the Berry family's prized wood floors. He throws himself into the room, just barely managing to lock it with trembling hands before he empties the meager contents of his stomach into the toilet, unable to stop until he can do nothing but heave, tears streaming down his face.

He rests his elbows on the seat, cradling his head in his hands. How had everything fallen apart so quickly? One minute he was gossiping with Mercedes, exchanging overly-sweet stories about the latest dates their significant others had taken them on, and _now_…

Now he has absolutely no idea just what everyone out there knows. No idea what they saw. He doesn't know, and that just makes it that much worse. He can't even acclimate himself to his secret being out, because he _doesn't know_.

Slowly, and with shaky legs, he pushes himself up and walks over to the sink, taking a long glance at himself in the mirror.

His hair never changes length. If anything, it becomes a bit more styled – more of a layered pixie cut and less of a traditional boy's cut. But the color… his traditional brown locks are now a bright, flaming red. His face becomes slightly softer – fewer angles and more curves. His cheekbones are higher, his eyelashes are longer, his eyes just a bit wider, his chin less defined, his lips fuller.

He looks like a girl.

Well, according to the neanderthals at McKinley, he always looks like a girl, but now he really does. Which is accurate, he supposes, since technically by body he is, though he's still very much a boy in his mind.

His gaze travels down even further. The v-neck he slipped on earlier (_just in case_, he'd told himself, and thank God for that bit of precaution now) clings to his body, and it's not just because of the water. There's now much more to him under his clothes. His chest has filled out, breasts forming with the transformation. His waist has pulled in some as well, becoming smaller (though his hips – which he already jokingly calls pear hips – have filled out even more).

The transformation itself isn't painful, despite the numerous and extensive physical changes his body endures, but it does take some time. Kurt knows Blaine at least noticed how long he was underwater. He just wishes he knew if any of them had seen some of the more obvious changes he undergoes.

_Surely they did,_ he thinks. _This form is… certainly not lacking in any department._

He takes a deep breath before turning the faucet on, splashing his face with cool water just to rid himself of the light sheen of sweat he had developed when he was sick. Bringing a cupped hand full of the water to his mouth, he swishes it around, wishing he had thought to stick a toothbrush in his bag before leaving. He spits it out and stares at his reflection in the mirror for a moment longer before turning away, beginning to strip out of the wet clothing.

Shower. He needs to take a shower. That's the only way he can change back here – the only way he can douse himself in enough hot (hotter than body temperature) water.

Kurt manages to squirm his way out of the heavy, soaked cloth after a minute or two. With a sigh, he walks over to the shower, pushing the curtain to one side. Thankfully, he's had many a sleepover at Rachel's, so he knows just how to work the complicated shower. He kneels down, just getting ready to flip it on, when he hears it.

A timid knock at the door.

The knock at the door is almost so quiet that Kurt isn't sure if he's really heard it. He holds his breath, hoping maybe whoever it is will go about their merry way, but no luck. Whoever it is knocks again, this time a bit louder.

"Kurt?" Two more raps. "Are you in here?"

Blaine sounds worried. "Kurt, please – it was just a game. He didn't mean to upset anyone. Please open the door?"

There's a sigh followed by a bunch of rustling noise before one final rap on the door. Blaine's voice sounds somehow closer when he speaks. "I'm not going anywhere, you know."

Kurt shakes his head. "Please, Blaine. I – I'm fine. Go enjoy the party," he whispers. If Blaine notices the change in his voice (which has settled into an even higher, more delicate pitch than normal), he isn't mentioning it.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," he says, and Kurt bites his lip. He feels bad for worrying his boyfriend – he does – but he can't tell him. Not yet. Not like this. Not because of some careless accident, a stupid prank, a game. "Please just – open the door? I'm – you're scaring me, Kurt."

After an agonizingly long silence, Kurt clears his throat. "If I let you see me for a minute, will you go?"

"Kurt, what's-"

"Blaine."

Another thunk on the door, and it sounds much heavier than the previous knocks. After a moment, Kurt realizes it's Blaine's head. "I – fine. Yes. I'll leave after that, if you want me to."

Kurt squeezes his eyes shut tight at that. Blaine sounds so defeated. "It's – it's not like that, Blaine. I just... you're freaking out over nothing. I'm fine, I promise."

"Then why won't you open the door?" he asks.

As quickly and as precisely as he can, Kurt wraps his hair up in a towel. It takes him a moment to tuck the shorter pieces of his hair up into the cloth, but eventually he manages to make sure all of the red is hidden. He wraps his body in another, trying to make it look as if he's just gotten out of the shower. He holds the excess fabric tightly in his fist, just over his heart, letting the rest hang loosely about his frame.

Once he's completely sure he's covered, that nothing out of the ordinary is visible, he opens the door a crack. Blaine falls back a bit, having been leaning against it and not expecting the door to move, but quickly regains his balance. He's on his knees in a second, facing Kurt with wide eyes.

"Kurt," he says breathily. "Are you alright? Why'd you run off?"

Kurt steps aside and lets Blaine come into the room. He lowers the lid of the toilet and sits down on it, staring down at the fabric pooled in his lap. "I don't know," he says, biting his lower lip nervously. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry."

"Why won't you look at me?"

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head quickly. "I can't."

Kurt immediately knows it's the wrong thing to say, because Blaine flinches back from him, looking as if he's been slapped. "I'm sorry. I – I should've stopped Puck from chasing you around. I should've said something, I know, but I didn't think… I didn't think that any of them would-"

"Blaine, no," Kurt interrupts. He reaches out a hand, just enough that it brushes up against Blaine's, but he still doesn't raise his eyes. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just… I'm scared."

He hears the sharp intake of breath, and he can practically see Blaine's confused and started look in his mind. "Scared of what? Of Puck? Santana?"

Again, Kurt shakes his head, and again, Blaine tenses – this time visibly taking a step back. "Of… me?"

Kurt doesn't answer, and that's an answer in and of itself.

Blaine's back hits the wall across from where Kurt's sitting, and he slides down until he's sitting on the floor, his knees pulled up close to his chest. "I don't… I don't know what I did. I – God, Kurt, I'm so sorry for whatever it was. But please, please talk to me. I can't… fix whatever it is unless you talk to me."

It takes a while for Kurt to answer, and when he does, his voice is barely there. "You didn't do anything. It's that I'm afraid of what you _will_ do."

With his elbows propped on his knees and his hands tangled in his hair, Blaine looks up at him. "What do you mean? I don't – none of this is making sense to me, Kurt."

Kurt slides off the toilet until he's kneeling in front of Blaine. He still refuses to raise his eyes, but he brings a hand to Blaine's shoulder.

"I'm afraid of what you'll do when you find it. I'm not afraid of _you_. I'm just afraid that I'm not… good enough for you."

Blaine slides his hand up over Kurt's, linking their fingers together. With his other hand, he caresses his cheek slowly, lovingly. "You're perfect for me. Nothing will ever change that."

They stay that way for a moment – just sitting close together and breathing together, Blaine's hand tenderly following the line of Kurt's cheekbone – until his hand suddenly freezes. His fingers halt just by the corner of his eye, and Kurt's breath catches in his throat.

"What's wrong?" he asks, and he cringes at how high and shaky his voice sounds.

Blaine's fingers move again, almost in a slight pinching motion. "What is this?"

Kurt backs away, bringing a hand up to where Blaine's was. "What's what?" he asks, feeling across his face frantically. And then his fingers close over it.

Some of his hair – his bright, unmistakably red hair – has fallen free from the towel.

* * *

><p><strong>Note:<strong> Someone's made an awesome manip of female!Kurt (as described up there), so I'll put a link to that in my profile if you want to see it! He looks just like I imagined him in my mind. You should leave the artist a nice comment or something, because it seriously is amazing. :D


	7. Chapter 7

The lighting is dim in the bathroom, it's true, but it's still definitely _not brown._

With nimble fingers, Kurt works to tuck it back into the towel. "It's nothing. Nothing, I swear. Oh my God. Please forget you saw that."

Blaine walks towards him on his knees. "Kurt, please – did you… did you hit your head when you fell in? Let me look. Please. You don't have to hide it. Everyone outside feels bad for what happened."

Kurt shakes his head (gently, he doesn't want any more hair falling loose), and braces a hand against Blaine's chest, trying to hold him further away. "I'm fine. I didn't hit my head. Please just forget you saw that. I'm begging you, Blaine."

But Blaine just grabs Kurt's hand, holding it tightly in his own. "Kurt, I saw _red_. What other explanation is there? Please just let me see, baby."

He tries to pull his hand free, and he succeeds – but he loses his balance. He was already gingerly balanced on his knees, trying to keep the towel still on his head, and Blaine's hold on his hand is just tight enough that when Kurt pulls it free, he stumbles backwards.

His back hits the bowl of the toilet and he falls back off his knees into a sitting position on the floor, his back arching with the curve of the bowl. His neck follows the bow of his body, his head flying backwards, and the make-shift towel turban comes undone, falling in a tangled pile on the lid behind him.

It's as if everything freezes in that moment. Kurt's eyes fly open wide, and his hand comes up to his mouth. But he doesn't move to cover his head up again. He doesn't try to undo what's been done. He simply freezes, staring at Blaine with a look that can only be described as a mixture of terror and regret.

It takes Blaine a moment to move too. His jaw drops, and he just stares at Kurt, as if his brain can't quite process what he's seeing. But eventually he slides forward, his hand running slowly through Kurt's hair.

"It's – dry?" he questions.

Kurt just nods.

"And it's... it's red?"

Silently still, Kurt closes his eyes and drops his head, nodding, swallowing painfully hard.

"And it wasn't red earlier," Blaine says, his voice still sounding completely dumbfounded.

"No, it wasn't," Kurt whispers in return.

Blaine's fingers slow in his hair, pinching a few strands delicately and holding them out towards the light, as if that will somehow reveal how they've magically transformed colors since earlier that afternoon.

"How-…"

Kurt cuts him off, saying, "The water." He brings his gaze back up to Blaine's then. "It was cold."

Blaine's eyebrows furrow together. "Last time I checked, cold water didn't change hair color. Otherwise we'd all have different color hair now."

And then Kurt just starts laughing quietly. He buries his face in his hands to try to stifle the giggles, but they just keep coming, because really, the whole situation is just ridiculous. He's sitting in front of his very much gay boyfriend in nothing but a towel looking like a girl (which, by the way, he's surprised that Blaine hasn't mentioned any of his facial changes yet – they may be subtle, but they're still very much there), with his hair as red as a bowl of tomato soup, and he has no idea how to explain what's going on. How do you explain to the person you've been dating that you secretly have a female form that you've just casually neglected to mention?

Kurt just keeps fighting to contain his laughter, barely noticing when Blaine clears his throat softly. Eventually he swipes his hands under his eyes and takes as deep breath, regaining some semblance of a normal breathing pattern.

Blaine clears his throat again, and Kurt looks up at him, his head cocked to the side in a question. "Sorry, I just – this whole thing is ridiculous, and I don't even know how to begin to explain this, if you'll even believe me at all, and I-…"

Another quiet cough, and Blaine is suddenly finding the ceiling very interesting.

"What – what is it, Blaine?"

He runs a hand down his face and in a strained voice, says, "You let go of the towel."

Kurt's face drops in an instant, his hands flying up to grab ahold of the cloth again. It had stayed relatively in place, having been underneath him where he was sitting and hooked tightly under his arms, but letting go of the fabric bunched up over his heart was enough. Enough for it to fall open just slightly.

Enough for him to see that Kurt suddenly and most definitely is _not_ a boy.

He pushes himself into a standing position, making sure the towel is wrapped tightly around himself again, and opens the door. His eyes are downcast once again when he starts talking, only this time, he doesn't try to mask the change in his tone of voice. There's no point. He knows now. "You can go. I won't – I won't tell anyone why you left. Your keys are in my bag in the room. I'll catch a ride home with Finn or something. Maybe Mercedes."

Blaine stands and walks slowly towards Kurt, like a man who's been called to his death. "You – is that what you want?"

Kurt shakes his head, tears threatening to spill over already. "But I'm not going to try to make you stay. Please don't make this any harder than it already is."

"Kurt, look at me." (He refuses.) "I love you. You – you have to believe that. More than anything else, you _have_ to believe that."

Another violent shake of the head, and Kurt pushes Blaine's arm slightly with his free hand, urging him towards the door. "You don't have to pretend. Please."

But Blaine shrugs his arm off and pushes past Kurt, braces his hand in the middle of the door, and pushes it closed with a heavy hand. "I'm not leaving."

Kurt's voice is as quiet as ever when he finally speaks again. "But you're gay."

Blaine nods. "I am. And you were very much a boy the last time I saw you naked. So either this is a really weird dream that one of us is going to wake up from or you should explain what's going on."

"It's – it's a really long story."

Blaine hops up onto the counter and sits, looking back at Kurt. "Well, I kind of told the rest of New Directions off before I ran in here to find you, so I doubt they'll be coming to check up on us. We have time. Or at least enough time for the basics."

Kurt sighs. "And there's no way I can convince you to wait until we get home to talk about this?"

He doesn't even have to look up to know that Blaine is shaking his head in the negative. Resigned to his fate, Kurt grabs his wet swimsuit and shirt, pulling both back on, and wraps the towel around him again – this time purely for warmth – before sitting down on the lid of the toilet again.

"Okay. Where should I begin?"

"Just start at the beginning."

Kurt gives a weak smile. "A very good place to start."

Blaine leans over and grabs his hand, running his thumb gently across the soft pad of muscle below his thumb. "There's my Kurt." He smiles and gives Kurt's hand a squeeze, and Kurt can't help but think it's the most beautiful smile he's ever seen, because for some reason Blaine is _still sitting there_.

"I never went anywhere," he says quietly, though he knows it's kind of a lie. Obviously his male form has disappeared for the time being.

"No, you didn't."

Kurt take a deep breath before he starts speaking again. "I – uhm, I guess you've kind of figured out the basics on your own?"

"I think so," Blaine replies, his voice a bit hesitant. "If you fall in cold water, you – you turn into a girl?"

"Almost. It – I don't have to fall. If someone throws water on me, that'll do it too. And it's really… anything less than body temperature water. That's why I didn't change when Puck hit me with the hose. The water was really hot after sitting in the sun all day." He swallows, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. "It has to be a decent amount of water. I'd guess around a bucketful.

"Unfortunately, the slushies at school are enough. I usually will be able to take a shower in the locker room to change back, but on the – rare occasion that I don't have time because of a test or something, I keep extra clothes in my locker. I – I always have two extra sets of clothes in there. One is a more normal outfit for me, for when I have time to change back, and one is looser so that I can, uhm, avoid questions. I have a hat to go with whatever that outfit is too, so no one questions the-" he broke off, gesturing to his hair.

Blaine just nods as Kurt talks, trying to take it all in. "So why…" He trails off, not sure how to phrase exactly what he wants to ask.

"Why does this happen?" Kurt supplies.

Exhaling slowly, thankful he understands, Blaine nods again.

"We don't know."

"What do you mean? And who is we?"

Kurt looks up at him, his smile faltering a bit. "Uhm, my – my father and I. He's the only other one who knows. It wasn't… I didn't always…"

Blaine slides off the countertop and moves to sit on the edge of the tub, closer to Kurt. He moves to run his hand slowly down his back, giving him a questioning look to make sure it's okay. Kurt nods, and the pressure behind Blaine's hand picks up a bit.

"This didn't always happen. There was – an accident. When I was six."


	8. Chapter 8

Much to Blaine's credit, he stays quiet. His forehead creases and his eyes look lost, and Kurt can tell he has a million questions. But at the same time, he knows Kurt needs to speak. He needs to speak, and he needs to do it now, before he completely loses the little bit of nerve he has.

"My mom," he begins, his voice cracking on the word, "was still alive, and I was… I was so much closer to her when I was little than I was with my father. I had the relationship with her that I have with my dad now, except even more. I just… I worshipped her. From the moment I could walk, I would just toddle around behind her all day. She taught me so much. She – she was a stay at home mom, so I was around her all day for years…"

"_Mama, Mama!" Kurt giggled. He ran into his parents room and flung himself on the bed, landing on top of his mother's legs with an 'oof.' "Look, Mama!"_

"_Why if it isn't my little sweet pea," Elizabeth Hummel cooed. She wrapped her arms around Kurt, pulling him up into her lap. "Someone's supposed to be napping, and it's not Mama."_

_Kurt, a small three years old, bit his lip nervously. "Not tired."_

_His mother ran her finger lightly down the bridge of his nose, smiling softly. "You need to sleep, baby. Don't you want to be all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when Daddy gets home?"_

"I would do anything she asked me to do. She would let me 'help' her in the kitchen and with the housework and everything. She was so beautiful, and I swear, I thought she was a princess…"

_He pouted and shook his head stubbornly. "Not tired! No nap!"_

_Elizabeth sighed. "Well, since you're awake, why don't you show me what you made?" she asked, gesturing to a piece of paper clutched tightly in the toddler's fist._

_Kurt beamed and thrust the paper at her, quickly crawling to sit beside her. "I drawed a piture."_

"_You _drew_ a _picture_?" she asked, placing emphasis on the correct pronunciations. "What did you draw a picture of?"_

"_Yeah! I drawed it!" he said, practically bouncing up and down in his skin. "Look, see, me and you."_

"_You drew us?" she asked again. "That's very good, baby! Are you going to be an artist when you grow up? You could paint Mama and Daddy a million pictures to fill every single wall."_

_Kurt's eyes widened in wonderment. "You can draw for a _job_?"_

_Elizabeth nodded, stroking his hair gently. "You sure can. If that's what you want to do." She laughed as Kurt nodded so hard he nearly knocked the top of his head against her chin. "Maybe we'll buy you some new crayons next time we go to the store. Would you like that, sweet pea?"_

"_Yeah!"_

"_Well, we'll see what we can do, okay?" she said. She glanced back down at the picture. "Where's Daddy? There's Mama, and there's my Kurt, but where's Daddy?"_

_Kurt pouted. "Daddy working."_

_Elizabeth pressed a kiss to his forehead before pulling back, looking down at her son with a devilish gleam in her eyes. "You know what we should do before Daddy gets home?"_

"_What, Mama?"_

"_We should make cookies."_

_He gasped and scooted back on the bed to look up at his mother. "Can we?" he cried._

"_Only if you can stay awake. Only big boys who don't need naps can help their Mamas in the kitchen."_

"_Not tired! No nap!" he repeated, pounding his little fists into the blanket for emphasis._

"_Well let's go, then! We don't have much time!"_

"She was perfect in my eyes. But I think – I think maybe my dad was a bit sad that he didn't get to see me much… that my mom and I had such a wonderful relationship. He wasn't sad for us, but I think just – he wanted that too, you know? And I really only got to see him for a few minutes in the morning and then at dinner. He worked even longer hours back then, because the shop was new and he needed to get it off the ground. So when I was six, she came up with an idea…"

"_But Mama, why aren't you coming?" Kurt asked, his lower lip sticking out far._

_Elizabeth finished zipping up his jacket before patting him solidly against his tummy. "Because you and Daddy are going to have some time together, sweet pea. You're going to have so much fun camping with Daddy. You'll get to make a big, big fire, and go fishing…"_

_Kurt pulled a face, his little nose scrunching up in disgust. "Gross. Fish are gross and smelly and dirty."_

_His mother slid his backpack onto him, tutting softly under her breath. "You're going to have so much fun you won't even care that the fish are a bit smelly." She brought her hand up to his hair, smoothing it back out of his face. "And you know what?"_

_He sulked. "What?"_

"_I bet if you're really good for Daddy, he might let you make s'mores over the fire after dinner," she whispered._

_Kurt perked up at the prospect. "Really?"_

_Elizabeth just shrugged, whistling innocently, as Burt walked back inside._

"_Okay, that's the last of it. You ready to go, bud?"_

_Kurt glanced back up at his mother one last time, and she gave him a sneaky wink. "Yeah, Daddy. Let's go."_

"So we went camping for a weekend on the edge of this lake. For the first day or so, everything was good. It wasn't really my thing, but I could tell my dad was excited, so I tried really hard for him. We did all the typical camping things. We slept in sleeping bags, we hiked through the woods, we fished, we made campfires – Dad even let us make s'mores, like my mom had promised, and I remember singing little songs around the fire, being horribly sticky from the dessert."

Blaine chuckles softly. "That sounds adorable. I can't remotely imagine you camping, though."

"I know, right? I'm not – I'm not an outdoorsy person. But I tried, because I love my dad and I missed spending time with him. And because my mom had been the one to come up with the idea." Kurt swipes a hand under his eyes, wiping away a few tears that had started to slide down his face. Blaine frowns at the sight. "I'm fine. I just – I don't talk about her much. I'm sorry."

"No, no, no," he says, wrapping his free hand over their already linked hands, surrounding Kurt's entirely in his. "You don't have to apologize, love. It's okay, I understand. We – we can stop, if you need. I shouldn't have pushed."

Kurt shakes his head. "I need to keep going. I'm afraid I won't if you give me time to stop."

So Blaine nods, falling silent again.

"The… the second morning, after we had breakfast, we decided to go out canoeing. I have pretty good balance now, but as you can imagine, it wasn't so great as a six-year-old. But we managed to both get into the boat and push off from the shore. Dad was trying to teach me how to row, and I couldn't get the hang of it. I just kept paddling us in circles.

"After about thirty minutes or so out on the water, my paddle accidentally snagged in some weeds or something, and it jerked out of my hand when the boat turned. We weren't too far away from it, but we floated far enough away that my little arm couldn't grab it again. So Dad stood up carefully and said we should switch places, because he should be able to reach it. But I – I lost my balance."

Blaine's breath hitches. "What-"

"I fell in."

"You – you fell-"

Kurt nods. "I – the boat started shaking just enough and I tumbled over the edge. I remember falling face-first into the water, and just… sinking. Really quickly. I started panicking and flailing, and I'm sure that didn't help things any, but it didn't make any sense that I couldn't seem to kick myself any closer to the surface. I knew how to swim – I was a pretty good swimmer, actually. But I – it was like something was pulling me down.

"My dad jumped in after me, but the water was murky. He couldn't see where I was, so he just started swimming down and pushing his arms out, hoping that he'd brush up against some part of me eventually."

Blaine's grip on his hand tightens. His eyes seem impossibly wide, but he doesn't speak. He just listens in rapt attention.

"It took him a long time to find me. It felt like – God, it felt like I was under for forever. I know he resurfaced once for air before he found me." He pauses, swallowing hard as Blaine's thumb brushes tenderly beneath his eyes, wiping away tears he wasn't aware had fallen. "I was all the way at the bottom, he told me. I was practically blue when he brought me up. I certainly wasn't breathing. He – he resuscitated me, but I had been under for _so long_. He carried me back to camp and wrapped me up in a blanket, then immediately put me into the car and drove me to the hospital. We just – he, he left everything else we had brought with us at camp. It took us a while to get out of the woods and to the nearest hospital. By then, I think he said I had fallen asleep."

Finally, Blaine speaks up. "You – you keep saying he told you most of this stuff. Do you not – remember this?"

Kurt shakes his head. "That's the weird part. Well, one of the weird parts. I was six. I should remember it, right?" He looks over to Blaine. "I should remember."

"I'm… sure it's normal to not remember something traumatic like that."

"That's what the doctor told me when I woke up again. And then there were a lot of… questions to answer."

"About why you had sunk?"

Kurt gives him a rueful smile. "About why I was a girl."


	9. Chapter 9

"So that was your first transformation?"

"Yeah. My dad – he didn't notice. I mean, I was six. I had no… immediately noticeable body parts by that point. And he didn't notice the change in hair color. Partially because he was panicked, and partially because it just got covered in mud and stuff. But when the doctor was looking me over, he obviously noticed.

"He went out to talk to my mom and dad, asking them about what my charts said – about being a boy. He wasn't sure if it was a typo or if I was changing or intersexed or what. But of course, they insisted that I was a boy. Of course I was a boy. Their darling baby boy. Why was the doctor asking such a foolish question? Why wouldn't he let them see me? Why would nobody tell them what was going on? You can imagine their panic."

Blaine nods.

"I wasn't allowed to leave the hospital until everything was figured out. Those first few days, they ran so many tests. _So_ many tests. I don't think they let me sleep for about two days straight. I was constantly being poked and prodded and listened to and observed and just-" He stops again, drawing in a tight breath. "I felt like some freak. I was scared, and nobody would tell me what they were doing – and I just wanted my mom to come in and cuddle me and take me home and let me sleep in my own bed. But there was a team of doctors trying to figure out why all of a sudden I wasn't the Kurt Hummel that my parents had raised for six years. I mean, in personality I was. Nothing had changed there. But it – I was clearly no longer male.

"But finally on the morning of the third day, there was a breakthrough. I was only six, so I didn't have oily hair or anything to worry about, so hygiene had really been the last of their concerns. If anything, they would give me sponge baths. But that morning, they decided that I could shower. I had to have a nurse help me – I was still weak from the time I had gone without oxygen when I was under – but I would get cleaner that way, so they finally agreed."

He gestures to the shower beside them. "I was going to shower before you knocked. I was hoping I could jump in before you came after me, but you were faster than I anticipated."

"That explains the nakedness, I suppose," Blaine says, the hint of a smile dancing on his lips.

Kurt chuckles, a nervous, light sound. "Yeah. But like – like I said earlier, showers are the fastest way to change back. Which we found out then. Because as soon as the nurse ushered me into the stream of water, I – ahh, changed back."

"Can I – ask a question?"

"I believe you just did."

Blaine rolls his eyes fondly. "Glad to see that even in the midst of an emotional moment, you can't resist a moment to tease me."

"You make it too easy, love," he says, leaning over to press his lips to Blaine's. It takes him a second to realize what he's done, and he pulls back quickly, fumbling over his words. "I'm sorry – I didn't – it's just… it's instinct, and I didn't-"

"Kurt, breathe." Blaine releases his hand, moving to grip his shoulders tightly. "I promise, it's fine. I love you. I told you that. I have loved you and I love you now and I will love you – weird… genderbending curses be damned. You're still the same Kurt you always have been. This doesn't change a thing."

It takes Kurt a moment to calm down, but eventually he looks back up at Blaine with a shaky smile. "You – uhm… you had a question for me?"

"Right, right." He removes his hands from Kurt's shoulders, resting them in his lap instead. "So this whole – changing process. How long does it take?"

He thinks for a moment. "Uhm, a minute or so? Maybe a bit longer. It's not immediate. And I've noticed that it's a bit longer to go from female to male than it is to change the first time. I don't know why, though."

"And you – they never figured out why this happens?"

Kurt shakes his head for what feels like the millionth time. "No. All they know is that it has something to do with the water in that place, but not why it made this happen or how it's possible or any of that. It shouldn't be possible. Medically, this should be impossible. It's – God, it sounds like some sort of messed up fairy tale. Which would add an extra level of irony to the fact that Azimio and his cronies call me 'fairy' if it were actually a fairy tale, but this is the real world. Things like this aren't supposed to happen. Magic, spells, curses – none of that stuff exists. And yet here I am."

"Here you are."

He looks up at Blaine. "You're – being remarkably calm about this."

"I'm just trying to process everything. It's – I mean, you have to admit, it's a lot to take in."

Kurt looks down at his lap, fingers twirling mindlessly over the hem of his swim trunks. "You – if you need to go, you can. I know you said you weren't, but if you… if you need time to think about things, just tell me."

"No. No, I'm fine. I just – I'm trying to make sure that I understand as much of this as I can. So, to recap: You fell into a lake and almost drowned. When you woke up in the hospital, you were a girl. And it turns out that cold water turns you into a girl, and hot water changes you back. And you don't know why."

"I think that about sums it up, yes." Blaine stays silent, and Kurt just watches him. "Please say something?"

Blaine eventually looks up at him, his eyes shining. "Take a shower with me?"

Kurt just blinks, staring back at him. "You, uhm – what?"

"Take a shower. With me. You have to take one anyway to change back, right?" Blaine says, presenting the idea like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, yes. But we've never..." he trails off before clearing his throat. "We've never… done that before. Are you sure you want the first time to be when I'm not – you know…"

Blaine smiles softly. "This is a part of you. It's not something that's going away, right? And I'm not going away. I'm not… afraid of this side of you. I want to see you."

There is a long moment of silence as Kurt considers it. Finally, in a quiet voice, he says, "But everyone is still just outside."

"I'm sure they're eating by now. They'll be busy for a while, right?"

Kurt falls silent again.

"Please?"

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and stands slowly, shrugging the towel off his shoulders. After folding the towel – admittedly a bit haphazardly – he brings his hands the waistband of Blaine's swim trunks. "If we're doing this, then you… you first."

Blaine nods, leaning forward to kiss Kurt's cheek fondly. "Go ahead."

With slightly shaking hands, Kurt unties the suit and hooks his thumbs under the waist. He freezes then, lips pursed nervously.

"You're sure?" he asks, giving him one last chance to leave, if he so desires.

Instead of replying, Blaine places his hands gently on top of Kurt's and pushes, helping him remove the fabric until it pools around his ankles and he can step out of it. He brings his forehead to Kurt's, resting them together. "Are you okay?"

Kurt nods slowly, but pulls away a second later. "Can you, uhm – can you turn the water on? Pretty hot."

"Are you going to-?"

Kurt nods again, effectively cutting him off. "Just – don't look?"

Blaine agrees, and then he turns his back to Kurt. As he leans down to turn the water on, Kurt pulls the still-damp gray shirt over his head. Blaine sticks his hand into the stream of water, testing the temperature and fiddling with the nobs, trying to get the water hot enough to do the intended job.

Just as Blaine turns the shower head on, Kurt shrugs out of his suit, leaving him standing there naked behind him.

But Blaine doesn't turn back around.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks.

Kurt swallows, his arms crossed self-consciously over his chest. "Uhm – go ahead and get in. Face the water. I'll… I'll get in behind you."

"Alright," he says. Silently, he pulls the shower curtain back and steps inside, leaving Kurt standing alone in the bathroom.


	10. Chapter 10

He walks over to the sink, staring at himself in the above mirror.

_You can do this_, Kurt thinks. _He loves you. He's not going to leave you. He already knows, and he's still here. He wants this._

I _want this_, he realizes. _I want someone to know. I don't want to keep secrets from him anymore. This is it. He'll know everything. There's no turning back after this._

With one final deep breath, Kurt turns away from the mirror, crossing the small room in a few quick strides. He stands outside the shower for another few seconds, just to psych himself up, before pulling back the curtain and sliding in behind Blaine, who has obediently stayed facing the water.

"Hi," he whispers, reaching his hand out to brush down the muscles in Blaine's back. "Thank you for looking that way."

Kurt can't see him, of course, but he can tell that Blaine smiles. He can hear it in his voice. "Of course. Anything to make you comfortable."

"You can turn around now," he begins, his voice wavering with nerves. "But don't – don't look down. Not yet."

Slowly, and a bit awkwardly in the cramped shower, Blaine shuffles around, looking determinedly at Kurt's face. Before he can help himself, a hand darts out to smooth some hair back out of his face.

"Hello, beautiful," he says – two simple words that make Kurt's eyes well up. He responds in kind with a kind of choked off half-laugh, half-sob, which just makes Blaine shift in closer, until their feet are between each other's. "What can I do? What do you need?"

"Kiss me," Kurt begs. "Before you see, I just – I need you to. Please?"

"Always," Blaine breathes out, before closing the distance between the two of them and capturing his lips in his own. He slides his tongue against Kurt's lower lip before prying them open and sliding inside, mapping out every expanse of his mouth.

Kurt pulls Blaine's lower lip between his own, nipping lightly. He feels his knees weaken, and he reaches out blindly, grabbing onto Blaine's elbows to hold himself up.

They separate after a moment, breathless and panting.

"I'm ready," Kurt says.

"You're sure?"

He nods, once again letting his eyes drift shut. "I'm sure."

Blaine finally tears his eyes away from Kurt's face and looks down, taking in the entirety of Kurt's naked female form for the first time.

Blaine is really quiet at first. He doesn't move – he barely even blinks. He just… looks. His back turns red from the overly-warm water streaming down on him, but he makes no effort to move out of the stream.

Kurt keeps his eyes closed tightly, waiting. Waiting for what, he isn't sure. For some kind of touch. Some kind of reaction at all, perhaps. Blaine has been so quiet about everything, and Kurt wonders if maybe this will be the thing to push him over the edge.

After all, Blaine was very thoroughly acquainted with his male form not that long ago.

Once about a minute has passed, Blaine's tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he meets Kurt's eyes again.

"Can I – I mean, can I… touch you?"

Kurt gives him just the slightest of nods. It's barely there, but it _is_, and the fact that Kurt trusts him this much amazes Blaine. So slowly, gently, he reaches his hand out, first resting it on his shoulder.

He gives his shoulder a brief squeeze, hopefully reassuring, and begins gradually moving down. His fingertips smooth down the line of his neck, over his pulse point, and dip into the space of his collarbone (which is now not quite so prominent). Kurt shivers, but doesn't pull away.

Blaine lets his hand drift, stopping just over the curve of Kurt's chest and laying his hand flat – right over his heart. He lingers there for a while, feeling his heartbeat, before moving slightly to the right, trailing over his sternum. He swallows and looks up, meeting Kurt's eyes one more time (he nods, yet again, and still very minutely) and then, with a deep breath, he runs his fingertips down the curve of his breast.

With a small gasp, Kurt's jaw drops open, his back hitting the back wall of the shower. Blaine withdraws his hand immediately, looking worriedly at him.

"Still okay?" he asks, a nervous edge to his voice.

"Yeah," Kurt replies breathily. "Keep going. I-if you want."

He brings his hand back, a bit more hesitantly this time, and cups the side of his breast, feeling the weight in his hand. With an uneasy chuckle, he says, "This is… not something I ever saw myself doing. So if I – do something wrong, tell me, okay? I don't know what I'm doing here…"

"Me either. I don't – uhm, I mean, I haven't… I don't usually pay this form any _attention_, if you catch my drift."

Blaine blinks, surprised. "Really?"

"It's not exactly something I'm… proud of. Turning into a girl."

"But you're beautiful," Blaine says suddenly, and with such sincerity that Kurt feels like the breath has suddenly been knocked out of him.

He shakes his head. "You're just saying that because you feel like you have to, or something."

Blaine's hands slide down, settling on his waist, and he pulls Kurt close. They aren't touching, not yet, but they can feel the warmth radiating off each other, which is an entirely different level of intimacy.

"I'm not," he says firmly. "I may not know much about the female body, but Kurt, you're – God, you're beautiful. You're gorgeous as yourself, and this version of you – it doesn't lose any beauty. You're still you."

With a smile, he grabs Kurt's hand, wrapping them both up in his own as he had done earlier as they talked. He brings all their intertwined hands to Kurt's chest, setting them once again over his heart.

"You're still Kurt. This heart, your heart – _my heart_ – is still the same. The shell may be different, but nothing has changed."

Kurt closes the distance between them, burying his face in Blaine's neck, each of them clinging to the other for dear life. They stay like that for a while, pressed head to toe against each other.

"I don't understand," Kurt finally says, his voice muffled and hard to hear over the still steadily pounding water. "If I were in your position, I'd probably run screaming."

Blaine twists his head, pressing a kiss into Kurt's bright hair. "No you wouldn't."

If Kurt clings to him a bit tighter, neither mentions it. "No, you're right. I wouldn't," he whispers. "I love you."

"I know."

Pulling back slightly, just enough to look at him, Kurt pouts. Which of course just makes Blaine laugh, a wide grin pulling across his face.

"I love you too. You know that," he says. Then he dips down and draws Kurt plump lower lip between his own, kissing him sweetly.

Kurt arches his back up into the kiss, pressing him even harder against Blaine's torso. And consequently, Blaine steps out of the shower stream, crowding into Kurt and pushing him against the wall. He braces his hands on either side of Kurt's head and kisses him deeply, pausing only every now and then to breathe.

"This is weird," Kurt says between kisses, tilting his head to chase after Blaine's lips. "Feels different."

Blaine chuckles against his lips, which is also a weird, new sensation. "Different, yeah. That might be an understatement."

"I mean kissing. It – it feels different like this."

"Mmm," Blaine hums, agreeing. He shifts slightly and pushes up onto the ball of his feet to kiss Kurt harder, and they both gasp, because _oh_, Blaine has slotted his leg between Kurt's and he's _hard_.

"B-Blaine?" Kurt stammers, his heart pounding in his chest.

Blaine is _hard_. Blaine is _responding to him_. Him as a _girl_. It's almost too much to process.

It must be overwhelming for him too, because he just groans, dropping his forehead to Kurt's shoulder and breathing hard.

Kurt brings his hand to Blaine's neck, caressing the skin there. "Talk to me. What – what do you need?"

"I don't know," he says, shaking his head despite the fact that he doesn't pick it up from its resting place on Kurt. "I don't understand. I'm gay. I'm so, _so_ gay…"

"This doesn't change anything, right? Just like you said – I'm still me. A-and bodies can get turned on even if the person doesn't really want to, you know, so it doesn't necessarily mean that you're attracted to girls too. I – I mean, if you are, then that's okay – we talked about that, right? If you were bi, it'd be okay, and-"

Blaine brings a finger to Kurt's lips, effectively cutting him off. "You're rambling," he says, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips again.

Kurt exhales, sagging against Blaine, and wow, that might not have been the best idea, because he just dropped his weight onto Blaine's thigh, and if they weren't touching before, they certainly are now.

Which causes Blaine's hips to stutter upward, his erection sliding between the warm, tight muscles of Kurt's thighs.

"Oh God," Kurt all but whines. "Let me change. Please, Blaine, please – let me change _now_ or we're going to do something we'll both regret, no matter what our bodies may be saying."

"I wouldn't regret it," Blaine groans, sliding his hips forward again, the squeeze of Kurt's muscles incredibly tight. "Not with you."

It takes all Kurt's focus just to breathe. It's alarming how good this feels – having Blaine fuck his thighs – and it's making it hard to focus. "I'll file that u-under 'things we should talk about later,' but I'm not – I don't want… _please_, Blaine, just switch places with me."

Blaine takes a step backwards, slipping out from between Kurt, and it seems like he's going to follow through with Kurt's request. Until he freezes, his eyes almost comically wide.

"What?" Kurt asks. "Is everything okay?"

"We don't… have anything in here."

"What do you mean?" he asks.

Instead of replying, Blaine surges forward, kissing Kurt with an urgency that hadn't been there previously. When he pulls back, his chest heaves with every breath. "I need you. Inside me."

Then it's Kurt's turn to freeze. "After everything, y-you want-"

"I need you. _Please_," Blaine begs. "You – you can feel that I still want you, but I _need_ you too."

Kurt pulls him in for another heated kiss, tangling his hands up in Blaine's sodden curls. "Yeah. Okay."

"But we don't have anything in here. Your bag, our clothes, the lube – God, everything is in the other room. I – I meant to go get everything before we got in here, but I was… sufficiently distracted," he says. "What do we-"

With a quiet giggle, Kurt says, "Rachel's going to hate us."

Blaine's brows furrow together. "Why are you talking about Rachel at a time like this?"

Kurt gives him a devilish grin in reply. "She's been so protective over those hardwood floors all day. Too bad they're about to get soaked."

"What-"

"Go get it," he says.

"You – you want me to-?"

Kurt nods, fully smirking by now. "Go get it. I'll be here."

Blaine groans, almost obscenely loud. "You can't be serious. Kurt-"

"The sooner you go, the sooner you'll get back."

"I thought you wanted to change," he protests, grasping feebly at some excuse.

"I can do that while you g-"

"No!" Blaine yells, the sound echoing off the hard tiles surrounding them. Kurt pulls back from him, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline. "I – I mean, don't… not while I'm gone. Please?"

Kurt's gaze softens almost immediately. "You… you want to see?"

Looking vaguely like a kicked puppy, Blaine nods.

He leans forward, brushing his lips again over Blaine's – a touch that is so barely there and yet makes them both burn with an all-too-pleasant ache. "Okay. Go. I'll be here when you get back. I promise."


	11. Chapter 11

Blaine leaves quickly, and there's a moment of silence as he wraps up in a towel before he exits the room. Kurt, once again, is left alone with his thoughts and the swirling steam. He carefully avoids the water (thankfully, the shower is a decent size, so this isn't particularly hard); as long as he doesn't step forward, he won't end up in the stream.

It would be a lie to say he doesn't consider it, however.

Just one small step forward and he could avoid the embarrassment of Blaine seeing him change. He's never watched himself transform – but he can't imagine it's a pretty sight. His body undergoes some pretty major changes.

But he doesn't. Because he promised Blaine.

Blaine – who has been so above and beyond wonderful that Kurt can't even wrap his mind around it. Blaine – who still loves him with every fiber of his being. Blaine – who deserves to know the truth, and all of it, even if it is ugly.

During this whole outing of the truth, Kurt has thought multiple times that this, surely _this_ moment, would be the final straw for Blaine. Thus far, he's remained unwavering – but the dark little voice inside Kurt's head screams at him that this moment, seeing him change and be between genders, will be the breaking point.

And despite his faith in Blaine, and his faith in the two of them, he can't help but wonder if that's true.

Conveniently (or perhaps inconveniently), Blaine comes back then. Kurt hears him slip quietly into the room, but all other sounds are masked by the still-cascading water. That is, until the shower curtain pulls back, the hooks scraping against the curved, metal rod.

Blaine steps immediately back into the water, setting a small bottle on the ledge beside him. Kurt's eyes dart over to the bottle, and he swallows, suddenly anxious. Perhaps Blaine sees the fear, or perhaps he just picks up on his overall change in demeanor, because suddenly he's wrapping Kurt back up in his arms – his shower-soaked skin sliding smoothly against Kurt's still mostly-dry skin.

"What can I do?" he asks, warm air from his breath tickling the shell of Kurt's ear.

"Switch places with me."

He pulls back, holding Kurt at arm's length, hands braced against his shoulders. "Are you sure?" he asks, concern absolutely dripping from his voice.

Kurt nods. "Please. I – the longer we delay this, the more fear and doubt creeps in and the more I want to just," he pauses, taking a deep breath, "Want to delay it more."

"Okay," Blaine says, his eyes shining.

And then, his hands still holding tightly to Kurt's shoulders, he steps to the side, allowing Kurt to shuffle past – and directly into the water.

The transformation begins almost immediately. His hair flattens to his head – as it always does in the shower – but the color darkens far more than just getting it wet would do. That is the first change to complete. From there on, it works downward. His eyebrows drop, following below the brow bone and filling out. Next, his eyes shrink, just slightly, and his eyelashes also shorten. All the tiny changes that Blaine hadn't noticed when he originally entered the bathroom, he certainly is noticing now. Kurt's nose widens slightly, his cheekbones settle slightly lower on his face, and his lips flatten a bit (_that explains why kissing felt different_, Blaine thinks). His jaw angle changes, raising slightly. Almost imperceptibly, his neck widens, filling out his shoulder-width just so.

Then the changes begin to move down to his torso. Kurt's collarbones stick out a bit more and his shoulders widen, adding a bit more bulk to him. Then comes perhaps the largest physical change – his chest flattens out again. Blaine watches in amazement as the breasts he had just minutes ago been running his fingers down disappear, seeming to shrink back into his body, leaving the toned chest he had come to know so well in their wake. The remainder of his torso fills out as well – that typical 'hourglass' figure disappears as his lower abdomen expands, the muscles becoming more defined and stronger.

His hips shrink, straightening the line of his body out. Before the changes move to his lower body, Blaine notices that Kurt's arms fill out, much more muscle definition appearing, as well as just more bulk in general. (He realizes then that he hadn't realized just how strong Kurt is previously. His arms are _gorgeous_.)

The Kurt standing before him is half male, half female, and Blaine watches with awe as the changes continue. His thighs thin out a bit, though perhaps that has more to do with the change in hip width. Then… Kurt lets out shaky breath as his genitals begin changing. The growth of the penis is another shocking change for Blaine to witness. He has, of course, seen it become hard, growing in length and girth then, but this is entirely different – the organ spawning from what seems like thin air. It lies flaccid against his right leg, and then the transformation moves down the length of the limbs.

His legs don't change much, honestly. The knees become a bit larger, his calves a bit thinner, and his feet grow a bit.

And then it's done.

Kurt just stands there, letting the water roll down his tired body – understandably, the transformation is fatiguing. His eyes slip shut, and his shoulders sag, and he just sighs. He sighs because he's tired, he sighs because he's glad it's over, and he sighs because it happened. But most of all, he sighs because everything feels _right_ again. He's a boy again.

Blaine also just stands there – though more due to shock than anything. Slowly, he reaches out his hand, running it down the length of Kurt's torso; his eyes then fly open, wide eyes staring back at Blaine.

"Say something?" he pleads.

He opens his mouth to reply, but a small croak is the only thing to come out.

"You – you can still leave if you want," Kurt reminds him. "I'll understand…"

Still unable to quite find his voice, Blaine just shakes his head, staying firmly planted on the far side of the shower – still just an arm's length away from Kurt.

Kurt watches him carefully. "Are you – okay?"

This time, he nods.

With his tongue darting out to wet his lips, Kurt shifts nervously on his feet. He doesn't leave the stream, though the water is starting to cool down slowly. He doesn't step towards Blaine – he doesn't want to crowd him, just in case. Doesn't want to push.

"Y-you're scaring me, Blaine. Please just… do _something_. Anything."

Blaine looks him over again, this time much more slowly, taking in every inch of skin that once again seems so new. This is hardly the beginning of their sex lives together, hardly the first time they've seen each other naked, but it's like this revelation has hit the reset button. Everything seems so innocent, so untouched. It wasn't there a moment ago, and that's enough to make it seem special now.

"Beautiful," he whispers. It's so quiet that Kurt isn't sure he actually hears it over the water – that it isn't something his mind makes up – but then Blaine is leaning up, brushing his lips against his again, and he knows.

This is real.

_They_ are real.

And Blaine – he isn't going anywhere.

He wraps his arms around Blaine's neck, draping them over his shoulders, and pulls him in closer, his tongue probing one again at the lips he knows like the back of his hand. Blaine parts them quickly, welcoming Kurt into his mouth.

They dance around each other like that for a while before Kurt feels Blaine shift to his left, his shoulders dropping somewhat. When he straightens up again, he pulls Kurt's arms off him, bringing them between them both.

Then, he presses the small bottle of lube into Kurt's hand.

His lips never leave Kurt's; after all the time they've spent together, stolen moments after school or in an empty hallway or in a dark car, Blaine knows just how to kiss him to make him fall apart. He leans in hungrily, nipping at Kurt's lower lip.

Kurt tries to pull back, tries to say something, but Blaine chases after his lips with a pout. Kurt would find the desperation cute or possibly even amusing – maybe it would elicit a giggle in other circumstances – but right now, it's endearing. It's like Blaine can't get enough of him now that he has him back. He doesn't want to miss a single moment, a single breath or gasp or groan.

He had thought Kurt was _hurt_. And then he had thought Kurt was scared of him. That he wanted him to leave.

He thought he had lost him, and now that he knows everything (the secret, that neither of them are going anywhere, that they're still _them_), he just needs all of Kurt. So he pulls away, releases Kurt's mouth with quite moan, and turns around. Arms braced on the wall, he spreads his legs, offering himself up.

"Wait!" Kurt says suddenly. Blaine freezes, blinking nervously, until he speaks again. "Switch places with me again. The water's starting to cool down, and I don't want to… to, uhm…"

But Blaine doesn't wait for him to say it. He just turns back around and nods, placing a kiss to Kurt's temple, and switches places with him, standing in the still warm, yet steadily cooling, shower stream.

Kurt brings his hands to Blaine's shoulders, running lightly down his arms until he hits his waist. Then, grabbing onto him for a moment longer than truly necessary, he spins Blaine around until they're back to front. Taking advantage of the new position, he hooks his chin over Blaine's shoulder, kissing down the length of his jaw. Getting the hint, Blaine turns his head, craning as far up as possible until their lips meet once again, tangled in a messy and desperate kiss. The angle is awkward – slightly too far a reach for both of them – but it's worth it.

Kurt pulls back, breathing harshly against his mouth. "How do you want-"

With a groan, Blaine cuts him off, pushing back into Kurt's body and grinding against him. "No time. S-start with two."

"Okay, okay. Shhh. I've got you," he sighs.

There's a quiet _pop_, the lube opening, and Blaine can hear Kurt slicking up his fingers. The cool digits slide over his ass, down into the cleft. Then Kurt swirls the tip of his finger around the tight ring of muscle, causing Blaine to pull in a harsh breath through his teeth.

"Stop teasing," he hisses, already sounding strained.

With a breathless chuckle, Kurt pushes the two fingers in until the first knuckle. He freezes, letting Blaine adjust to the intrusion.

"Okay?" he asks.

Blaine braces his hands on the wall in front of him again, water cascading down his chest. He gives a jerky nod and swallows, pushing back onto the fingers until Kurt's palm is flat against the curve of his ass.

Languidly, Kurt begins pumping his fingers in and out. He drags them slowly, almost torturously so, until just the very tips of them are still in Blaine. And then, with sudden force, he pushes back in, crooking them up just slightly. Blaine yelps and crashes his forehead against his upper arm, arching his back in an attempt to push as far backwards as he can.

Everything reaches a boiling point soon after that. Kurt adds a third finger, purposefully hitting his prostate on every drag until Blaine is pawing helplessly at the wall, rambling incoherently about _need_ and _want_ and _love _and _please oh god please Kurt_.

Then he withdraws his hand, and Blaine is almost in tears, he's so turned on. The tiny click of the bottle sounds over the water once again, and Kurt hisses as the cold liquid pours over his cock. The skin almost burns, aching desire overwhelming him. It doesn't take long for him to slick himself up (wiping the excess lube on his hand onto Blaine), and within a minute or so, he's brushing the head against his entrance.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice wavering a bit.

The babbling begins again, Blaine tripping and stumbling face first into a pool of jumbled words and emotions. "So ready, oh God, Kurt… _please_, please just stop teasing me and _do it_ already – I _need_ you."

With no further warning, Kurt pushes inside, stopping when the head is fully inside to let Blaine adjust. He hisses in pain, following it up with deep, gasping breaths, trying to relax himself enough to let Kurt slip in further.

"Okay?" Kurt asks. He vaguely thinks it would be amusing that he's speaking only in one-word questions, but even gritting those out is hard when he's completely surrounded by Blaine. Nothing stands between them now, just slick skin against skin, engulfing him in smothering, perfect, _wonderful_ heat. He squeezes his eyes shut as tears threaten to fall. Being inside Blaine is always amazing. That's nothing new. But what is new is the amazement he feels.

Because Blaine – beautiful, caring, incredible Blaine – loves him this much, trusts him this much to let him in bare. To give his entire self to Kurt, even after everything he's learned tonight.

"Yeah. Good. Just – _move_. Please," he says, still wincing.

Kurt pushes in slowly, hesitantly, as he watches Blaine's face scrunch up in pain.

The drag burns. Kurt prepped him, of course, but they're both so desperate, so rushed on time now that the water is cooling quickly, that things progressed much quicker than they normally would have.

When Kurt bottoms out, Blaine lets out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "Hold on – just… just for a second."

And of course, he freezes. He freezes, even though his thighs shake dangerously with the force it takes to hold himself back (God, he wants to shove in so bad – wants to make Blaine _scream_ for him, no matter who may be just a few thin walls away). But he stays there – standing still, his hips pressed tightly against Blaine's ass – until Blaine gives him a single nod.

He feels Blaine relax beneath him, feels his stomach unclench and his back slump. Everything is suddenly looser (somehow, though he still feels impossibly tight), which is Kurt's cue that it's okay to move again. Gripping Blaine's hips tightly, he pulls back until just the very head of his cock is still in him before thrusting forward.

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><p><strong>Note - Please Read:<strong> We've reached the point where we're caught up with what I've posted to the GKM. There are likely two more parts coming to be posted there, which will be posted as a single chapter here, and then this is done! Well, the main story, anyway. I have three related one-shots to this story (in the same 'verse, just expanding on little things mentioned or interesting side stories) in the works, so if you like this story, keep an eye out for those eventually. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and stuff so far, guys. This has far exceeded my expectations, and you all are wonderful. :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Note**: Welp, this is the end. Thanks for joining me for the ride. As a reminder, I have three one-shots planned for this 'verse, which will be posted as I finish writing them - so keep an eye out for those! And seriously, thanks for reading. This was my first GKM fill, and the response has been more than I could have ever expected.

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><p>The sound of wet skin hitting wet skin is a lot louder than they expected. Again, it's not the first time they've had sex by any means, but this is new – this is new and damp and a little messy and a lot perfect. It's exactly what they both need.<p>

Blaine's hands flex where they're pressed against the wall, his nails trying desperately to cling to the grout between the cold tiles. "Move. Nngh, please – _more,_ Kurt."

"Y-yeah, okay. Sorry," he grunts out, thrusting back in quickly.

His hands drift from Blaine's hips, sliding down the soaked expanse of skin until his palms rest firmly over his ass. He massages the flesh, opening Blaine up just the slightest bit more so he can push in even closer to him. It's a small thing, but it makes a world of difference when it seems like their very bones ache to be connected.

Over his ragged breathing, Kurt says, "God, you feel so good. Don't want to leave you."

Blaine's jaw drops in silent pleasure, and it takes a moment before he can choke out a "Then don't."

Rather than trying to reply again, Kurt pushes himself in all the way until he's pressed completely against Blaine, their hips slotting together like they were carved as matching pieces. Then, slowly, so as not to knock either of them over, he leans his weight onto him. He hitches his leg up, resting his foot on the edge of the tub, and lowers himself over Blaine's back. With more tenderness than the harried moment perhaps should allow, he begins to press very deliberate, lingering kisses down Blaine's neck and shoulders. With every kiss, he rolls his hips upward.

Kurt's lips never leave his skin. After each kiss, he slides a little further down, lavishing his back with them. He moves down Blaine's spine gently, brushing his lips against every contour, every sun-kissed freckle, every dip of every muscle, until he feels like he's mapped out his entire upper body. Until he feels like he could draw Blaine with his eyes closed. Until he feels like he's memorized every single tiny detail that makes up this person he loves.

And with every kiss and every roll and corkscrew of Kurt's hips, Blaine falls a little further apart. His toes curl in against his body, and part of him wants to cry out for Kurt to pull some of his weight off of him seeing as he feels like his knees might give out at any second with zero notice – but even if he could, he wouldn't. He refuses to miss out on a single second of this moment, so he just lifts up onto his toes, shoving himself back a little further and a little quicker into Kurt.

Which pulls a broken moan from deep within Kurt's chest. He rests his forehead against Blaine's back and draws in a shaky breath, winding his arms around him until they completely encircle him, until Blaine is completely wrapped up and buried in Kurt. They both need this so much. They have no time for this, not really, but after everything that this day has thrown at both of them, neither of them wants to have sex right now like some sort of frenzied porn stars.

They hate the term 'making love.' They both consider themselves (and will freely admit to being) hopeless romantics, but that's pushing it a bit for either of them. Except – that's exactly how this feels. There's so much emotion flowing between both of them, so much pure, raw, unadulterated _love_, that it's truly almost overwhelming.

"Love you," Kurt mumbles into Blaine's skin. He pistons his hips smoothly, relishing in the careful, calculated drag of skin against skin, mumbling out a fragmented stream of "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Blaine swallows hard. "For what?"

"Everything," Kurt croaks out, his voice hardly more than a whisper. "For pitying the poor spy to noticing something was wrong to being my friend to trusting me and to loving me, every single piece." He punctuates each of the last three words by brushing against Blaine's prostate every time, angling his hips up just right and just hard enough.

With a sharp cry, Blaine grabs Kurt's hand and slides it down from his diaphragm to his cock. Taking the hint, Kurt wraps him up tightly in his hand and pumps in time with each thrust deep into him.

"Close," Blaine whimpers, bringing his hand back to the wall in front of him for strength. The water is cold, but it does nothing to help his aching erection. "Please, _please_…"

"I've got you," Kurt murmurs, giving his hand a twist every time he grazes over the head. The coldness of the water just makes Blaine's skin feel even hotter, like they're both on fire.

Blaine rocks back and forth on his heels, switching between pushing back against Kurt's hips or up into the warmth of his hand. His breath comes out in sharp pants, small keening noises following close behind every one.

"Come on. Shh, come on, I've got you," Kurt repeats. His hand slides up and down Blaine's length just three more times before, with a choked-off gasp, Blaine spills over him, his entire body trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Kurt moves his hands, come-covered mess and all, back to Blaine's hips and begins pushing into him quickly, knowing he'll be soon to follow. It'd be hard not to, with the way Blaine is clenching down on him with every tremor and shake that wracks his frame. He manages to last another thirty seconds or so, which seems so little to them and yet so much, considering how sensitive they both already are, before he thrusts up deeply into Blaine and stills, coming long and hard.

It's then that his foot slides down off the edge of the tub, falling ungracefully into the small collected amount of water around them. As soon as he can find it within himself to move again, Kurt lifts himself off Kurt's back, letting them both straighten up into a standing position. But neither separates.

"Thank you." This time, it's Blaine that whispers the words softly, a smile blossoming slowly across his features.

Kurt gives him a quiet chuckle in return. "I can safely assure you that it was my pleasure."

"We should clean up. Are you okay to – you know, rinse off?"

He nods, and with a low hiss, pulls out of Blaine. "Yeah, I should be. It'll only be a few seconds, which won't be enough to trigger another transformation."

Since his hands are still draped around Blaine, Kurt decides to go ahead and rinse them under the stream while they talk, letting the evidence of the fact that they just had sex in Rachel Berry's bathroom (…again) wash away.

"Why don't you go first," Blaine suggests, moving carefully to switch places with him one last time in the shower. "It'll take a bit longer for me in here, and I know you're ready to get out of this cold and into some dry clothes."

"You know me so well," Kurt sighs, pressing his lips against Blaine's sweetly.

"By this point, I would hope so."

"Oh, trust me," Kurt says, quickly washing himself off, "You do. Much better than anyone else at this point." He finishes after a minute or so and turns back around to Blaine, giving him a soft smile. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Kurt leaves the shower after that, leaving Blaine alone with his thoughts and now uncomfortable ache from the frigid water. He turns around and washes himself out as quickly as possible, pins and needles shooting through his hands as they threaten to go numb from the cold.

"On the plus side," rings Kurt's voice from across the room, "Our clothes are really warm. Was our bag sitting in the sun, or something?"

Blaine nods, momentarily forgetting that Kurt can't see him. "Yeah, it was under the window."

"Well, it feels amazing, after that shower."

Ducking his head, Blaine smiles. So it wasn't the most successful sex in the world; in fact, it was downright uncomfortable a bit there towards the end. But the overwhelming feeling of connection outweighed how chilled they became. He switches the water off after that, running his hands over his hair to push excess water out and ruffling the curls back up.

"Can you hand me a towel?" he asks, wiping his eyes.

A few seconds later, Kurt pulls the shower curtain back and smiles up at him, a fluffy white towel draped over his arm. "Well, this is a new vantage point for both of us," he teases.

Blaine rolls his eyes and grabs the towel, wrapping it tightly around his waist before leaning down to capture Kurt's lips once again. When he pulls back a moment later, he does so just barely, their lips still tangled together as he speaks.

"Quiet, you."

"Mmm, but that's no fun at all. I thought you liked when I'm vocal?"

He practically groans at how bad a line it is, but he doesn't deny it. Of course not. It's true, after all. "I won't grace that with a response."

"That's enough of one, love."

Smiling softly, Blaine pulls away and unwraps the towel from around his waist, ruffling his hair and drying off the rest of his body. Kurt just watches, leaning back against the bathroom counter.

Blaine drags the towel down his face, glancing up at him. "Like what you see?"

"Always."

"Hand me my clothes?" he asks, draping the wet towel over the shower rod.

Kurt does, and never looks away as he dresses, sliding back into his still-damp swimsuit and his (thankfully dry) t-shirt. The suit immediately clings to his body, and Blaine shivers – the material uncomfortably cold after the also-too-cold shower.

With a quiet chuckle, Kurt turns back towards the mirror, running a comb through his hair. Before joining him, Blaine grabs the bottle of lube off the shelf in the shower, drying it off quickly in the towel and sliding it into the bag.

"So what now?" he asks, resting his hip against the counter next to Kurt. "Where do we go from here?"

After he finishes combing his hair, Kurt drops that into the bag as well. He wraps his swimsuit up in a Ziploc bag he had thought to bring along. With a soft sigh, he braces his hands on the edge of the sink. "What do you want to do, Blaine?"

There's a moment of silence before Blaine wraps him in a hug from behind.

"Wet, Blaine! Get off me!"

"No," he says, burying his grin into Kurt's neck. "You know what I want to do?"

Kurt leans back at an awkward angle, keeping his hips pushed forward away from Blaine's wet swim trunks and yet simultaneously resting his head on his shoulder. "What?"

"I want to get out of Rachel's bathroom."

"And then what?" Kurt prods.

"And then," Blaine begins, "We're going to go home and get changed and cleaned up and go out to dinner and just – be us. Without worrying about the fact that our classmates are a few walls away."

Kurt lets his eyes drift closed, the corners of his lips just barely tugging upwards. "And then?"

"One day at a time, Kurt. We've got the rest of our lives."

He doesn't doubt him for a second.


End file.
